


Wildling

by EndlessSpook



Category: HTTYD, How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), How to Train Your Dragon - Fandom
Genre: Action, Adventure, Dragons, Gen, HTTYD - Freeform, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, dragon wildling, im trying to write something for romance repelled people, raised by dragons, theres really no romance though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 04:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5813899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndlessSpook/pseuds/EndlessSpook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You grew up in a world of vikings and clashing metal, in a small norse village called Krokr.<br/>Dragons are the enemy, it's all you've ever known and all you've ever seen of the reptilian monsters.<br/>They're dangerous, feral beasts, and would kill a human as soon as look at them. <br/>Or so you thought, until you found the Wildling.</p><p>(This idea was inspired by the feral!Hiccup au, which brought into mind the idea of a dragon wildling character whom I created myself. Most-to all characters are mine)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Fight to No End

This was Krokr. Barren, crumbled, and even though by the sea, the beaches only shone with sunlight rarely. Though rain and storms were a good thing in a place like this, strangely enough. Violent storms like that meant no trouble, no damage, no...

 _"DRAGONS!"_ The bellow blasted through the crowd, the impending swarm on the horizon. Soon to arrive, the chaos would once more take over your world. It was how you lived, always dodging flames, the village around you a mess of destruction and flying debris, as the large creatures raged ever rampant through your home. No, not creatures.  
_Monsters._

The people around launched into action, preparing for the attacks as best they could in the time they had. The village was remarkably well armed and organized by now, this had been happening since before you were born, and before your parents and theirs. It was just  _how things were._ Dragons were the enemy, it was simple as that. Horrifying beasts that burned all they could to the ground. Hypnotising eyes, scales thick enough to block blows, even the ability to bewitch others, each and every one of the things were pure  _death._ With no soul, they would destroy a human as soon as look at them. Even children, which you had heard they break through homes and burn through shelters to steal and devour. Thankfully it had never happened in  _your_ home, however the stories told horrors you were willing to believe.

"Charlie! Thidrik! Take to the flock! Make sure they can't take hold of the beasts!" A tall, determined seeming young man stepped from the hall, marching towards the incoming fray and taking shield and axe in hand. Magnus the Swift was only young, his father downed by an attack of three quite large and flame-covered Monstrous Nightmares. He acted just as his father had, barking orders in an authoritative shout that sent others scrambling,except for a few whom he trusted close by his side, who had proven themselves. They were few in number, however you were included among them. With a stern nod, you glanced over to your partner in the fight, a brawny, dragon-hunting bear of a boy who boasted a Gronkle's skull atop his fireplace, and watched him scramble towards the flocks of confused sheep with you right behind.

By the time you had managed to herd the bleating, fearful animals within their hideaway the scaled monsters were upon the village, rampaging and diving and howling through the air with fiery reckless abandon. If you were to have anything to do with it, they would not get within a ship's length of the new hiding place, memories of what had happened last burning in your mind with stinging regret, the bleating cries of your food stores being dragged away in sharp talons still ringing in your ears.   
"Not this time, not today" words muttered under your breath as Thidrik guffawed behind you  
"Scared you'll let them through again. Charlie?"  
Glaring back to the tank of a boy, you hissed soft words of cursing, turning your focus back to find a pair of reptilian heads bearing down on you.

 _Hideous Zippleback_ , one head releases the gas and the other ignites it for a widespread, and _devastating,_ explosive reaction.  
It wouldn't matter which hand could light the candle to burn the home down if there were no hands in the first place, right?  
A snarl, a swing, and a beastly scream as the sword within your hand dug deep, the blow hitting the scaled head. It recoiled and turned to flee, but did not get far before a mace cracked the other's skull open. But where one dragon falls, more swarm to take their place. A welcome presence slipped by your side, the familiar hair of coals and eyes of fire-branded focus of Torhild Naddottir. She was as dangerous as the dragons, and as clever and swift as you. Not quite rivals, but not quite allies, the doubled axes she wielded slipped terror through the air with every cut, and you silently gave each other a nod, turning back to back. Not a word was spoken, and yet there was no need.

It was when you had finally cleared your side of dragons that you saw it.  
You had never seen a dragon like it before, darting back and forth on the sides of the fray, blasting balls of  _somethin_ _g_ into the chaos with terrifying accuracy. The way it moved had caught your eye, and you took a step to prepare for a charge when another dragon joined it.  
Or... _was it?_  
Something was off, the way it moved, the proportions, and the partner had a startlingly small stature compared to the attacking dragon. No tail, and no wings you could see. Though perhaps it was distance, it was like nothing you'd ever seen before, draconic head craning towards the fight before pressing to the larger before they moved to slip into the forest. The head turned towards you, and you could feel a gaze burning into you, almost through your skin.   
_"What in Odin's name.._ "  
The sound of a roar disrupted you as a thick tail slammed into your back, knocking you down with a painful jolt, your sword skittering from your hand. The bubbled, barking roar of the Gronkle sounded once more, and you cursed yourself for being fool enough to lose focus in the fight. Scrambling backwards through pain, your eyes landed on a dropped battleaxe of your fellow vikings. You reached for it with firm determination, rolling quickly away from a blast and snatching hold of the weapon, only to whirl and bury it between the eyes that were trained on you. You watched the angered fires fall dull as the Boulder Class dropped with a heavy thud, rolling in the dirt limply.  
Gazing back to the edge of the fray, the figures were gone, no trace left behind of the strange beings.

The attacks never last long, though they often did enough damage for weeks upon weeks of repair. This was the only way, and has been the way things are done since their father's fathers. They win, they hold. They leave, they die. They’re always trying to win, they’re holding. Vikings do not ever back down from a fight, not even one that’s been going on for hundreds of years, and especially not one of those. To flee from such would be unthinkable.

The retreat of the dragons left them weary, the complaints of Skuld heard loud and clear as always occurred after battle, holding her limbs and head and attempting to get herself away from duties for a few days.  
"What happened in there?" A voice, soft and yet piercing, reached your ears as Torhild approached, muddied hazel eyes looking you over as she placed a hand to your shoulder. "You just froze. That's not like you."  
"I thought I saw something. Something odd" Memory flicked back to the two dragons, specifically the one who had watched her so intently. Shaking your head gently, doubt filled your mind. It couldn't have been real, could it?  


"A trick from Loki, perhaps." Her hand darted to her mouth as she gave a chuckle, her hand patting your shoulder twice in a friendly manner before she turned towards the forests "Think nothing of it. You still owe me a match, remember?"

Something about that forest felt wrong now, tainted. You shook your head when she started to walk towards the trees, jogging after to catch up with uncertainty welling in your gut.  
"How..about we spar on the beaches? You need training on loose terrain" Forcing a smile and a playful tease, you gave a relieved smile to her nod before turning in the opposite direction. You were sure something odd was going to happen within the woods, and be it just a suspicion or a gut prediction, you were going to find out sooner or later.


	2. The Thing in the Woods

A whispering chill in the air, and the rustle of leaves as your feet stepped ever so cautiously through the brush, peering through endlessly tangled halls of tree trunks. At dawnbreak you rose, watching your parent's chambers intently as you tiptoed through the door. To leave in such dim light would be dangerous, and lone vikings are easy prey for dragons, but you were no prey.   
You had to know, curiosity bade you do it. In the scuffle of the attacks, all prints had been wiped away, and finding traces to track would not be easy in such a mess, but you were not giving up.

So here you were, striding through the woods in the dim light of bare dawn, a swiftly-snatched axe at your back and senses keen. If there was something in these woods, you would find it. The world was silent, other than the occasional call of stirring birds. It seemed serene, almost, and safe, but you knew better. Just around the bend there could be dragons, bears, or whatever other monstrous things resided in the trees, watching and waiting for the chance to snatch unsuspecting animals-or humans, for that matter. It was still the wilderness, no matter how peaceful.

After hours upon hours of searching the woods, the barest sign you had left of your trail led to a dead end, much to your frustration. Was it really a true trail, or just coincidental happenstance tricking your mind? It had to be _something..._ the memory of the feeling that _thing_ left behind made you shiver, hesitance building in your gut at the thought. Was it really a good idea to wander out after something like this without anyone knowing where you even went?  
A shiver of leaves made you jump, something moving in the bushes sending you leaping backwards, weapon at the ready. When the presence of a startled and shivering piglet emerged instead of a dragon, squealing and scrambling head-over-heels for escape, disappointment flooded your mind. That disappointment soon turned to frustration, and a snarl of anger ripped from your throat, the axe flying from your hand and embedding itself into a tree. The sting of the wound you received from the battle yesterday in your distraction only increased your rage more, burning in your mind as your teeth gritted and you turned with a shout, ripping the axe out and hacking at the trunk once more.  
Hacking and slashing away in pent up aggression, you only barely managed to stop the weapon hurtling from your hands once more as a sound could be heard, and you turned quickly towards it.

Eyes were watching you, a figure in the brush.  
Haunting familiarity struck a sliver of ice into your heart the moment you saw them, and you could only stand dumbstruck and stare back at very clear, mismatched eyes.  
They watched in curiosity, indescribable as muddied grey and brown shifted in the bush.  
Steeling yourself, breathing out the panic rising in your throat and raising the steel in your hand, you held ready to fight if it attacked. Though the moment that the axe was raised, the figure disappeared in a flurry of leaves and scales, bounding away towards the thicket.  
A startled yell erupted from your lips, wanting to chase after, pursue the strange beast, find out what on earth could possess such non-draconic and yet wildly burning eye, but your feet were rooted to the spot, and the figure disappeared into the trees in a blur of dark, sandy brown. What you did catch was the lack of a tail, and wings.  
Confusion filled the empty space where anger had all but evaporated, staring after the creature's retreat. It had gotten away yet again, you realised in dismay, irritation nagging at your thoughts.

The walk home tasted of defeat at an inability to catch proper sight of it, and though it was a victory in itself to have confirmed the existence, who was going to believe you when you came home with only a story of chasing imaginary dragonlike things to explain your absence?

Only, your trek back home never met its' destination.  
A startled roar and a scream of pain sounded throughout the trees, more echoing in loudly bellowed panic, and something broke the treeline further off over the forest. Sandy colours, and the sleek, spiked form of the scaled beast as it rose in panicked wails and shot out to sea..  
_"The other dragon.."_  
The words slipped past your lips in absent thought, and the realisation of what that could mean dawned on you.  
Following animalistic cries of pain and fear, it was easy to find your way to the trap, and though you were prepared to face a dragon, you weren't at all ready for what was tangled within the cords.

It had scales, it writhed and screamed, and at first glance it could have been mistaken for a small dragon. However, the figure was all wrong. Long legs and a body far too different to be one of the reptiles, your arrival made it freeze, confirming what was caught within the lethal grasp.

 

_A human man stared back at you from the woven confines, eyes of muddied grey and brown flashing anger in his pain and panic, and_ **snarled.  
  
**

 


	3. Through Dragonic Eyes

_The human had found him hurting_.  
  
SunSeeker remembered the flight, and the gathered small town of _vykyngr_ and the raid. He and his _SunChaser-self_ had flown far, and the surrounding others in pursuit of a raid had swept them along, the far-flying pair ignoring all else other than the roar of wind and the cries of the others around.  
Though they flew far and high, it did not stop the foolish _vykyngr_ trying to throw sharp weapons and sending the metal-that-flies towards them that they dodged with ease, swooping through the chaos and crowing aloud in the flames.  
They slipped away into the dark of night easily, though a very angry human snarled at them and yelled human garbled nonsense until a smaller _rock-cruncher_ cousin attacked him, adding to his _soul-love's_ rain of defensive, angered fire.  
It was when he had urged the other to move, chattering _flee hide sneak flee now now now_ in haste, that he felt something staring at him. He did not like to be stared at, not by whatever could be watching in this havoc. He caught one of the humans with their eyes on him, ignoring what was happening, and he stared back at them until they turned to attack another of his kin who had attacked them in their distraction.  
Giving a huffed snort, he had shaken it off, thinking it the last of their encounters.

He found them again, screaming with _anger_ and he knew why. It was because they had been tracking him, trying to follow him and Chaser and find them for whatever bad human reasons that _vykyngr_ had.  
He had trailed after them for some time, watching them jump at a piglet and shifting with _caution confusion curiosity_ as to what exactly they wanted with him, until he found an axe pointing to his face and their eyes staring at him, to which he turned and fled, hearing them shouting behind but he had already turned his tail and run from their threat. He did not need to encounter them any more, returning to his _Chaser-heart-love_ and retelling the tales and both he and the Sand Wraith laughing and making jest at the _stupid silly fearful human_ s.  
  
It was later that things turned awry.  
Chased by another Dragon, the pair had fled, running and racing with the fire-skin screaming _anger_ and _irritation_ and _protection_ of a nest not far behind that they had stumbled upon.  
Trees dodging past as they ran fast like flight on foreign grounds, and then everything became _pain_ and he couldn't run.  
Thick cords tangling around his limbs and his body, constricting as he writhed and screeched _pain pain scared help pain shock_ , his _heart-beloved_ skittering to a halt with needles of the trees flying, bounding back and wailing back _you you caught wrong pain you_ , sharp teeth trying to chew through woven metal cords without use. It was human metal that brought the _metal death_ and _kin death_ , forcing _life light_ and _heart fire_ and warm, salty blood from them until they died.  
Seeker didn't know what to do, yowling and screaming _pain pain stuck hurt help help scared panic stuck_ , the Wraith responding in high pitched screams of _panic_ and _scared,_ whining _nest help soon back you you safe free nest kin bring bring nest here_ as he fled to find their nest-kin to aid him.  
  
His cries of _pain_ and _scared_ now flavoured with _anger_ reached ears he didn't intend to bring, and soon the sounds of clumsy stumbles he hated flew to his ears, bringing with it the stink of _human_.  
Humans were dumb and clumsy and loud, words squawked like bickering gulls between each other. He mimicked their clumsy noises and borrowed ones that worked, just as he borrowed the things they made and took and made use.  
The human entered his sight only to hear him scream a warning of _away away bad human fury away bad bad fury_ as he struggled once more, the breath pulled from him by the trap. Was this theirs? The human's face read shock and confusion and he snarled for them to stay away, the two feet wandering loudly in front of him. In clearer sight, the human was the one who he had kept finding, or was it they who had kept finding him? Their presence only made him all the more agitated, and he hissed to himself. No human could track them, he had made sure and any trace that was left he had covered and misdirected, yet now they were in front of him bringing the stink of _vykyngr_ to his nose.  
  
The human squawked at him in its' confusing noises, _shock_ flavoured with _worry_ and _fear._ Good, it should be afraid. The pain was digging into him like the human weapons that fly to him and his _Sunchaser-self_ , and his mind filled with broken whines of _hurt hurt pain hurt._  
It came closer, and he snapped at their paws, teeth clacking shut inches away from flesh.  
The human yelped and jumped back, but simply made another of their noises, one he knew from catching dragon-cousins back from other of their kind. They screamed it often at others, as he hissed and slashed, and he assumed it meant _help._  
  
Why was the human speaking help? It was in no danger. Hand gestures, the thing pointing it's paw at him and the word once more.   
_Help._  
It wanted to help him? Why would it want to help him? Humans were _bad bad wrong violent hurting bad angry_ , and always attacked him and his kin. They didn't know what to do and shivered like a whelpling that had been put in front of a bear when he snarled at them defensively, but the weapon that was on their side was placed to the ground to his surprise. He hissed _confusion,_ but the human had already shifted, moving its paws around and doing something with the cords. He twisted in alarm with another growl building in his throat, but something gave way under his skin, a crack breaking through his scaleskin, muffled not as much by his innards than by the howling scream his growl turned to as pain stabbed up and through his body like a claw through a fish.  
The yelp of the human was ignored as he fell limp, panting in pain and wheezing lightly, and yet he still had to keep watch on them, forcing his eyes back open to stare at the paws reaching to his sides. He wanted to wriggle again, break free and attack, he felt then human was going to kill him..  
And then the cords loosened slightly.  
It brought another jolt of pain and he gave a whining cry of _pain_ , though the human ignored it with their mouth set in a grimace and set him loose, squeaking and squawking their human noises.  
He fell to his face, hitting the ground hard with his breath burning inside him in a bad way, not like how his nestmates breath burned warm and gentle, burning like a wildfire that destroyed the trees and killed everything around his home. Wild eyes turned to stare at the human who had freed him before he tried to take off in a sprint with all of his thoughts screaming _flee!_  
But his paws betrayed him and a shock of pain sparked through his body, and he skidded onto the ground in a fall, yelping _fear_ and _pain_ aloud. He would not be able to walk, he realised this now. The human stared rudely, and he looked back and narrowed his eyes, nose wrinkling in _disgust._ He would not survive on his own, not in time for his _dragon-heart_ to return. It was likely more humans would come for him, or wild boar. Boar loved to take their chances with downed dragons, though they were hunted.  
  
So he forced the human word he heard earlier through his mouth, crudely pushing it past his lips.  
 _"Hh...hhhhaaaah-ep"_  
It tastes sour in his mouth and he rumbles disappointment that he had to even ask, but the human stared in confusion and surprise, perhaps that he had spoken?  
They bobbed their head in hesitance, assumedly a confirmation, and babbled at him shortly as they approached.  
He cringes at the human paws on his outer skin, though when he shifted he found he could not move well, falling to the side as the human chattered at him and held him up, trying to walk him on two feet with difficulty.

Stumbling through the staggeringly tall trees around, his eyes were to the ground as he was forced to lean on them, the stink of _human_ making his nose wrinkle. They smelled of blood and fish, but also of the sweaty-mammal-stink in the kind that only humans have.  
He heard the sound of more, and his eyes looked up to where they were headed. _The Vykyngr village._ A squawk of protest combined with a whine and bubbled hiss erupted from him as he snarled _bad bad vykyngr home bad away away flee,_ wrenching backwards and falling to the ground to try and move away himself. The human's upset chattering he ignored as he clawed himself away in pain, snarling back at the hands that tugged his leg. He would not go in there, _he would not._ He only goes of his own accord, when he is feeling to have fun and watch them think he is a hunter of dragons, and laugh later with his nest-mates about _stupid humans easy trick easy,_ and that they so readily accepted his tricks like a hiding-secret cousin amongst sheep.  
This was a wrong place for him to be hurt, and he would never say the fear of being in such a place, though now he was angry and upset and _tricked,_ but he would NOT go into their cages like other hurt kin he found again and again.

The hands went to his scaleskins again, trying to drag him from the ground, to which he hissed _away you away_ and flattened himself, as a lizard refusing to be eaten would. But the human stared at him and pointed away, back towards the trees, and pulled on his spikes and plates, and with begrudged and beleaguered irritation he stumbled and claws his way up their arm, clinging fast to them like how his _heart-beloved_ clung tight to the cliffs in the storms.   
  
The human den was old and full of holes and abandoned, and large as they always were, and stuck out in odd places. It stank of _human_ , but not as much as it did of rain and old wood rot, though his face still scrunched instinctively at the smell. He wished he could be at home where everything smelled _warm_ and like _love_ and the noises of his kin were always calling, that smelled safe and of home. But here it smelled of human stink and foreign wrongness, and though he was limped up to piles of old furs that the human pulled from their hiding-stores, such held no comfort for him like the moss and furs he had in his own nest.  
But in this, he just had to stay, he guessed. With a breaking pain through him and an odd human that wanted to help.  
The human disappeared from the door, chittering at him much to his distaste, and he gave a snort and huff, tugging on the straps of his scaleskin to see the damage the _trap bad hurting trap pain_ had done to him.  
Staring through one of the holes in the roof of the human-built hollow, he called gently to the sunset for his _dragon-heart_ to return, leaning back into the wrong-stink furs with a low, quiet wail of _sadness_  
He was alone, for now, and it hurt him to be apart more than the trap could ever have done.


	4. A Strange Meeting

Whatever strange fate the gods had decided for you, you had never expected it to be this.

The noises and actions almost had you believing him as inhuman, the look in his eyes was nothing but feral, and yet..  
Those eyes had held such intelligence, such emotion, and when he spoke, it was clear he was making _intense effort_ to wrap his mouth around the word. Such a clumsily spoken bid for help, and somehow you felt you had to help him. By now you were convinced you really _were_ mad, the feral snarls sending shivers down your spine.

He had been distressed beyond belief when you tried to take him to Krokr and to the healer, absolutely refusing to go and forcing himself to become dead weight that you couldn't lift in a childish-seeming fit like a small boy who refused to have a bath. So, seeing no alternative, you directed him back towards the woods.  
Your parents had a storehouse further in, wrecked and ravaged by dragons and storms, that they no longer made use of. That should have been shelter enough, nobody went out there anymore after all.

The cloth and ointment were easy enough to get from the wise woman, with simple word of worry and distress she merely handed you the supplies with a knowing nod. Though how you were going to get them on him....was another matter. Following a long-overgrown path your feet once wore through the ground when you were younger, your boots brushed through the scrub with volume you didn't like. It was far too loud, far too attention grabbing. What if the other beast returned? You half expected to be pounced upon at any moment, a shiver running up your spine at the thought of the sharp claws and scaly death that could await at any moment.

Opening the door carefully, nudging it with a foot, you cautiously stepped inside with eyes peeled for the stranger...only to let out a startled shout and drop what was in your hands. Dear Odin above, the man was absolutely _stark naked!_  
The shout made his eyes snap up, and a feral snarl burst from his mouth as he tried to jump back on all fours, only to have his arms balk under the pain and collapse from under him, sending him slumped to the ground with a pained whine.

You had looked after the youths, of course, however you had never seen a grown man without anything on..such things were for after becoming man and wife, and this..was not something you were used to. He shifted and stared at you with a feral kind of anger in his eyes, curling and giving pained whimpers with his arm sheltering deep, horrifically swelled bruising on his chest that could only mean one thing-the trap had broken a rib or perhaps more than one.  
Though now the armour was gone, you could at least get a look at his face. Long, sloped and covered in a short beard that seemed to had been hacked at with a knife. To say the same for his unruly tangles of dirty blonde locks would be giving up the chance to say it had been chewed off by dragon teeth, as choppy and uneven it was. The eyes that watched you were the same as always, dragon-wild with such intense intelligence within, it was startling how you could see his mind working away.  
One was pure brown, and the other clouded grey, with the muddied colour of the first mixed within. Peering from a scarred, raggedy face, between was a nose, twisted and rehealed from a painful looking break, twisting to the side with a sharp turn.  
His body was as scarred as his face, the wounds across his torso and legs were not the first, it seemed, as the browned skin was covered in a menagerie of lines and bumps from slashes, and burn marks littered him here and there, the most prominent spreading up the side of his neck. He was strong, there was no doubt in that with the wiry muscle that covered him, but  his back was slumped in a seeming permanent slouch-no wonder, with how he only walked with three or four to the ground.

Your observation was cut short as the being gave another yelp, trying to hide the barring wounds across his limbs even more from your view. It was like he was _afraid of you,_ like an animal cornered and hurt. Crouching to pick up the ointment and cloth, you forced yourself to ignore his current state, red-faced as you may be, and crept closer with them in hand. His head turned sharply, and he gave a snarl, reminding you with bared teeth how dangerous this situation could be.

_"H-hey, hey.."_ Your voice soothed, though his angered bristling didn't seem to change much. A hand reaching out was swatted at, and the pained stranger seemed to try and shift further backwards, trying to ignore the pain of his wounds with little success.  
 _"I'm not going to hurt you, it'll be alright.."_ It felt ridiculous. Talking to a man as old as you-if not older-as though he were a small child, and though embarrassment burned in your face, the results were at least showing.  
His eyes were latched to the ointment on your hand with laser-like focus, and he nodded his head towards it, calming his hissing for a moment.

_"Nuh"_  
A sound that seemed universal, a refusal. No. Your eyes rolled in exasperation, and a huff broke from your lips. He looked at it like it were a weapon, even though it was clearly harmless. You pushed your hand forwards and his head ducked back, eyes narrowing.

"Help" You urged, reaching forwards more. _"Heeelp"_  
"Hhhahh-ehp?" Feral orbs flicked from your hand to your face, reading off your earnest expression. Shifting a little, he gave an upset number of odd sounds, a succession of clicks and chatters, teeth clattering together in a sound that chillingly reminded you of Zippleback clicks, but you forced your head to nod. The sounds always managed to unnerve you, and you had hoped that the first encounters would have just been for show.

Though he shuffled a little on the spot, indecisive and shuddering with hesitation, he at least uncurled his torso, showing the painful marks breaking through his skin.  
 _'Just don't look further down'_ the thought was prominent within your head, already feeling this meeting was awkward enough as you reached with salve-covered fingers towards him. The pain made him break a rattling hiss, fear seizing you for a moment and causing you to flinch back, however even though his face was cast in a grimace, he seemed to be forcing himself not to move, muscles tense and twitching with strain.

It continued much in the same pattern after that, occasional hisses and whines of pain sounding, even when the bandages were put on-that he didn't like at all, from the way he was clearly eyeing them off as though they were going to bite him-until the wounds were finally bound. The moment you shifted back he seemed relieved, shuffling back awkwardly into the straw that he had sat himself on.

As long and difficult it was, you admired your handiwork, even though the stranger could have attacked you-and seemingly had no problem with biting your throat out, by the looks of it-a swell of pride grew in your chest, simply seeing how the salve gave relief to his arms and legs. The thought arose though..

Where on earth could someone like that have come from?

And why were _you_ the one seemingly fated to find him?


End file.
